


The Red Parachute

by candymax



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cheating, F/M, Pre-Squip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candymax/pseuds/candymax
Summary: On the last page of Brooke's notebook was a half-finished drawing. It had been sketched in stolen moments, bearing shaky pencilling and strange proportions. She filled in the details, illustrating a dress of her own design.Unable to look at it for another second, she crumpled and tore it to pieces.





	The Red Parachute

Brooke had brought him into her life in February, and lost him before the first inklings of spring.

It hadn't taken him long to find out where she disappeared to during study halls. He didn't share the class with her, and neither did Chloe or Jenna. For a short time even by high school relationship standards, she'd been dating Austin Hale. She knew that he'd gotten a tattoo of a snake on his arm from an artist shady enough to give tattoos to fifteen-year-olds, and that he came to school at six every morning to lift weights. He knew she was the second most popular girl in school. He didn't know much else, but he seemed willing to find out, and that was enough.

The walls of red brick formed the outside of the auditorium and were situated far from the parking lots. There were no windows at an angle where she'd be visible, so any classmates or teachers weren't likely to spot her. Even the couples looking for alone time and the smokers reaching for their white plastic pens preferred to retreat to the far corners of the student lot. So she'd claimed it as her own.

She sat down, back against the rough wall. The ground was damp, melted snow seeping into cracks in the pavement. It took a moment of searching to find a spot untouched by the bits of trash that had been blown from far-flung corners of the school. Her jacket offered little protection from the raw chill, and her breath was visible in tiny white puffs. It wasn't so bad, though. It was safe. She could take a deep breath and clear her head.

Or maybe not. Her phone buzzed. Upon unlocking it and seeing the text, she sighed. Some weirdo from her grade. _If you ever get tired of Austin_ , it read, _I'm always available._ This was followed by an embarrassing amount of winky-face emojis. She blocked the number and pocketed the phone. That didn't dignify a response.

Brooke rummaged in her backpack before pulling out her math notebook and a dull pencil. The last page contained no math, but instead a half-finished drawing. It had been sketched in stolen moments, bearing shaky pencilling and strange proportions. She filled in the details, illustrating a dress of her own design. The red lines used to add a burst of color were scratchy, as all she could muster was a red pen. Someday, she would make the design into real clothing. Maybe. If she borrowed her grandma's sewing machine, she might be able to do it. Just for practice. Not like she'd ever wear it in public. In homeroom, Chloe had already taken one look at the drawing in its initial stages and asked, "Is she wearing a parachute?"

Brooke could tell when Chloe said something just to be purposefully bitchy. That was not one of those times. She was genuine in her question, which made it worse. So she wouldn't make that mistake again. They just wouldn't see the notebook until it was ready to be seen. Drawing was more stressful with people hanging over her shoulder anyway.

People. Another person walked closer to her spot, and had already spotted Brooke. She stuffed the book into her backpack and scrambled to zip it closed. "Hey, what are you doing out here? It's freezing," Austin said.

Her laugh was soft. She tried her best to not appear startled. "You get used to it eventually."

"Were you writing something? Come on, I won't judge."

"Oh, I-Nothing. Nothing important." She glanced off to the side. Her eyes were wide and open, and she bit her lip. It was the same look that had ensnared him to her the first time they'd met.

He raised an eyebrow. "Nothing important, huh?"

Should she tell him? Would he even leave until she did? "It's just a thing I was drawing in class. I dunno, it's stupid. It was, like, a girl in a dress. Everyone thinks it looks like a parachute."

He crouched next to her. "If she jumps out a plane, she won't die, then. Come on, it probably looks fine. Let me see it," he said. Austin poked her in the arm over and over. She held out for a time, but then broke her neutral, serene expression. She covered her mouth with a hand, but her open smile and laugh were obvious. He kept going, unwilling to stop until she showed the picture, so she swatted his hand away.

"You'll see it when it's ready," she replied. There were better things to do alone together in a secluded location than argue over a half-finished doodle. So they dropped it. Maybe she'd show him later. Once it became a real dress. If he hated it, disowning it would be as easy as a white lie. It could be a hand-me-down from one of her sisters, or a travesty found at the bottom of a box in the attic.

He said they'd walk to her next class together after lunch. She took her seat in the cafeteria, crossing her legs. Someone else sidled up to her, taking the adjacent seat. "Brooke, how're you doing?" asked that random guy who kept trying to text her. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Grimacing, she tried to twist away without being obvious or forceful about it. He tightened his grip. She felt his breath on her neck as he opened his mouth to whisper something into her ear.

What he would've said, she had no idea. "Jackson? What the hell is going on here?" Austin asked, having strode up to the table.

The kid, Jackson, was many things, but subtle was not one of them. He refused to give Austin his seat back. Jackson grinned and said, "You know, I told Brooke a long while ago that if she ever gets bored of your dumb ass, then-"

Austin yanked him out of the seat by the front of his shirt. "The fuck you say? She's not yours, asshole!" he screamed in his face. His cheeks grew flushed. Jackson shoved him in response.

Chloe and Jake had shown up, Jenna trailing behind. The people sitting at the nearby tables fixed their rapt attention on them, muttering a few "ooh's." Austin's eyes narrowed. The boys paced in a circle around each other. Brooke rose to her feet before Chloe pulled her back to join the crowd and get her well out of the line of fire.

"Don't bother trying to stop them," Chloe said. "Getting in the middle of that will only make shit worse."

Austin lunged at Jackson. They descended into a messy tangle of limbs and flying hair. The whole cafeteria turned to stare at them. A crowd formed a tight circle. They screamed, whooped, and pumped their fists. Austin punched him across the face, hard. Blood ran down his nose.

The unfortunate teacher who had to supervise their lunch period ran over, pushed through the crowd, and tried to pry them apart. It was almost comical to watch their balding, cheap-polo-shirt-wearing teacher try to intimidate them. Austin managed to sidestep everyone else and shove Jackson to the ground. A clear winner was declared. The more responsible students helped separate them and pull them into separate corners.

The audience swarmed Austin. They high-fived him or patted him on the back. They bombarded him with questions, mostly variations of why he'd fought. Austin breathlessly recounted the fight, a huge grin across his face. Even Chloe and Jenna joined the mass of people to hang off his every word, looking for a dramatic enough story to make interesting conversation with those who weren't there. Even Jackson retreated to the nurse's office. Brooke tried to break through the layers of people surrounding Austin while trying to ask him if he was okay, but failed. He didn't hear her, or even glance her way. Maybe that was for the best. She didn't want to be known as that clingy girl. Still, wasn't she the reason all this had started?

The bell rang. She slung her bag over one shoulder and left. He stayed behind, still ringed by people he barely knew.

Brooke shook her head. What was she thinking? She had no right to be this ungrateful. Austin had saved her ass back there. She couldn't complain about a thing. It wasn't his fault he'd been swept away.

* * *

He was at fault for much more than basking in his peers' praise. Brooke found him behind the school, in her spot. She wasn't supposed to be there, skipping second-period English due to an unfinished essay. She found him, and he wasn't alone. He sat next to Mackenzie Larson, fingers tangled in her hair. His ex-girlfriend. Her red lipstick was smudged across his face, before he wiped it off in a flourish with his sleeve.

Her first thought was that it was a mistake. She couldn't jump to conclusions yet. Brooke refused to be that hysterical woman in every romcom that entered the room to find her boyfriend supposedly cheating on her and ran out before she could realize it was a misunderstanding. Maybe Mackenzie kissed him first without his permission, she rationalized. But no. He slowly kissed her again, initiating it himself without a smidgen of resistance.

Why would they do this to her? Maybe it was revenge on Mackenzie's end. Freshman year, Chloe had held some grudge against Mackenzie. So she'd told Brooke not to invite her to her birthday party. She obliged without a second thought, inviting everyone else on the field hockey team except for her. But even if it was revenge, why would Austin go along with it? She'd seen his reaction when other guys had tried to flirt with her. Was his anger fake? Was every time he'd visited her locker or made her laugh insincere and hollow?

He'd risked expulsion and physical injury to get in a fight for her. How could he care about her so little?

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Turning the corner, the ghastly sight left her view. Brooke rested her forehead against the cold wall and covered her mouth to stifle the crying. Tears sprung to her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She let out a sob, only to snap her head to the other side of the wall. Footsteps drew ever closer. They had heard her, and she'd have to see them again if she wasn't fast enough.

Brooke opened the nearest door, ran inside, trudged down the long hall, and hid in a bathroom. She turned away from the girls looking in the mirrors and locked herself into a stall. They couldn't know. Her face was already marked by red-rimmed eyes and ugly snot running down her lips. Everybody would know that some shit had gone down the instant they saw her.

She blew her nose and wiped her face on handfuls of cheap, scratchy toilet paper. What was her next move, even? Accept his bullshit excuses and beg for him back? Give him the silent treatment? Key his car and smash the windows like in the Carrie Underwood songs her mom liked?

Listless, she dropped her head and rested it in her hands. Dragging her backpack across the grimy floor tiles, she rooted around in it for her phone to see how much time was left until the bell rang. Her hand brushed against the math notebook instead. Upon removing it, she flipped to the last page to see the parachute-dress. A fresh wave of tears sprung to her eyes. She could never show it to him. He wouldn't care if she did, and she couldn't look at it anymore. Tearing it out and crumpling it up was satisfying. She stuffed the half-baked sketch into the stall's tiny trash can. It had only brought her embarrassment. There was no use in letting it be exposed in the open for people to examine, inspect, and judge.

* * *

"Oh my God, he's such a douchebag!" Chloe exclaimed. "I knew it. They weren't even subtle. Mackenzie bragged to whoever would listen."

Brooke nodded, staring downcast into her uneaten thermos of soup. Chloe fumed. Jenna trailed behind, eyes flitting between them. Brooke chose not to bring up how Chloe had been talking to Jake Dillinger and Dustin Kropp at the same time. Flirting-talking, not regular talking. That wasn't the same as what Austin had done, right? A few texts couldn't compare. Chloe had been trying to comfort her. She'd been the one to fish her out of the bathroom and hand her a makeup wipe to clean the mascara streaks off her face. It was the wrong time to be petty.

"Remember in freshman year? He turned me down, and was a total dick about it, just so he could have Mackenzie. They broke up the next week! And now it turns out he's a cheating asshole," Chloe ranted.

Jenna piped up. "We should do something about that."

"Let's skip class and egg his house."

"What?" Brooke asked.

"We're going to tell everyone what he did, of course. But we need to do something bigger to get his attention right now. He can't walk away without getting what he deserves."

Jenna's eyes lit up. "That sounds awesome! We have to do it. I was missing some excitement today."

They looked to Brooke. Chloe pursed her lips in expectation. She hesitated to answer. Why, though? Austin deserved it, and she had loyal friends who were willing to stand up to her. "Yeah," she said, forcing a tiny smile. "I'll do it."

Chloe, who'd been blessed with a September birthday and already had her learner's permit, was the one to drive them. "You're sure we won't get caught, right? Is this illegal?" Brooke asked.

"Don't tell me you're going to become all uptight. I've seen you get wasted at enough parties, and that was illegal. We won't get caught. Jenna has enough dirt on him to make him stay quiet." She didn't ask what Jenna knew. Brooke's image of Austin was ruined enough. Besides, even if she didn't know a thing, the school would take her word on it if she were to make something up.

They piled into the car and sped off. Chloe's fresh manicure and bright clothes contrasted against the car's fading, chipped interior. Brooke stared back at the school as they retreated from it. The car radio came to life with the press of a button, music pouring from the speakers. "Turn that shit up," said Jenna. Chloe obliged, raising the volume until the bass thrummed deep within her chest. They sang along to the words, not noticing how Brooke didn't join in. No sound came out when she opened her mouth.

Brooke should've been swept away in the whispered plans, music blasted through the speakers, and the chatter of her friends. Even after they stopped at the convenience store and bought three cartons of eggs, and even after she told Chloe his address, none of it seemed real. She wrapped her arms around herself.

Jenna glanced at her from the back, grinning. "Okay. So what we're going to do is-"

"I can't wait to see the look on his face," Chloe interrupted. "After what he did." Which incident she'd referred to was unclear. "Let's go. We're here."

The car pulled up on the side street alongside his house. Why were they doing this? The optimistic answer was that they were her friends and wanted to help her. Maybe that was the truth. She doubted it was the whole truth. Chloe pulled over, threw the car into park, and flung the door open. Brooke had to run to keep up with them. While Jenna bounced up and down on her toes, Brooke only shivered from the chill. She wanted to go back inside with the warm car heater, get driven away, and watch movies in her room for the rest of the night.

Chloe pressed an egg carton each into the other girls' hands, holding the third one herself. They approached the house side. Peering out at the driveway, they found it devoid of cars. His parents weren't home, and he remained at school unaware. Brooke followed the others' lead and opened the carton. She removed an egg, cupping it between her fingers in a delicate grip. Why were they doing this? Why had Austin chose to fight for her in the cafeteria that day? Perhaps it wasn't for her. Yes, she knew their lives shouldn't revolve around her and doing things for themselves was normal. She just wished they'd drop the pretenses.

She drew back her arm, about to throw the egg straight at the wall. Again, she hesitated. Froze. "I don't think I can do this."

Chloe and Jenna turned their heads to gape at her. "Why not?"

Because she wasn't only an excuse for someone else to show off fighting prowess and receive the warm glow of attention from his peers. She wasn't an opportunity for someone's adrenaline-fueled thrill ride, or for their old revenge plans against people who'd rejected her. She was more.

"I...I don't know," was her only reply.

"Whatever. Go back in the car, then," said Chloe. She tore the egg carton from her hand.

She left, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Hoots of laughter and the sound of eggshells smashing against the walls failed to make her do so much as flinch. When seated in the car, she turned her head away from the others. Whether she'd thrown those eggs or not didn't matter. She'd still feel like hell.

* * *

School came again, despite everything. Brooke slipped off out the back door. Retracing her steps, she faced the same expanse of red brick and damp pavement. It was difficult, but there was only one thing she had to do. She took a deep breath and sat down in the same spot as before. It wasn't her usual time, as she'd skipped second period again. That was the plan. She stared off into the parking lot.

Their arrival was uncertain. Even if they didn't, she still had to come to the spot. But they did. Austin blanched as soon as him and Mackenzie turned the corner. "Brooke? I didn't think you'd be here now," he said.

"I know, okay?"

Unanswered questions stretched between them. "Did Jenna or someone tell you anything? About us?" he replied. A last-ditch effort to save face. "What, was the house you too?"

"I saw you yesterday. I see you two right now. I think we're done." He stared at her, before flitting his gaze back to Mackenzie, then back to her. It was as if he expected Brooke to run off at any second now, so they could lay claim to the area. And she wanted to. She wanted to leave, avoid him, and never see the two of them together again. Still, she held her ground. They didn't get to have this space. The look on his face was worth a hundred egged houses.

Austin took a step back, then another. He slunk away, vanishing behind the corner. Mackenzie followed suit. They were gone.

She pulled the math notebook from her backpack once again, flipping to the last page that didn't bear the ragged edges of torn paper. Another try, another stolen moment. If nobody saw it but herself, so be it. The dress' design would be different, better, this time. Pencil in hand and red pen at her side, she began the sketch anew.


End file.
